Birthday Scandal
by Sugar Crush
Summary: Dan Humphrey had to be destroyed and Chuck needed expert help. He needed Blair Waldorf. set Season 2, Episode 10. C/B
1. Party

Because Blair's 18th should be the social event of the year and I think Chuck would have been more than a little bit worried about Dan's scoop on Bart Bass :) This will probably be a two-parter....

Also, I have edited Pret-A-Poor-J in my mind so that Blair and Chuck sleep together just after their conversation in her bedroom, so that is the 'just once' that Blair is referring to in this fic.

* * *

Chuck's mind whirled as the true consequences of Dan Humphrey's discovery about his father began to take a clearer shape. He pictured all of it; the media frenzy, newspaper headlines proclaiming the downfall of Bass Industries, scheming reporters gathering outside the apartment and the humiliation of watching the Bass fortune slowly withering. And who knew what else Humphrey would decide to reveal to the world? It would kill his father. Most likely kill his marriage too; Chuck doubted that Lily's commitment would stretch that far, after all wasn't his father's phenomenal wealth the foundation for their relationship?

And what about the man who had died? Bart could easily be taken to court.

And then what would become of them? Chuck shuddered. He knew that the life he had so enjoyed now lay in the hands of the very person who would most like to see it taken away.

Humphrey had to be destroyed and Chuck needed expert help. He needed Blair.

The limo pulled up outside her building and he leaps out. It's not his smoothest exit and Chuck was very much aware that had it been any other evening he would have changed into something special for meeting Blair in her room but with his family's imminent ruin on the cards tonight, he was beyond caring.

As the limo ascended, Chuck became more and more aware of the low beat coming from one of the top apartments. He almost smiled as Blair despised loud music except at parties.

_Wait. Parties? _ Something in Chuck's memory stirred. But before this thought could awake, the elevator doors opened and Chuck came face to face with Blair Waldorf's Eighteenth Birthday Party.

"Fuck..." Chuck murmured. He had to hand it to her – the girl could throw a party. The Waldorf penthouse had been transformed into a Moulin Rouge style music/circus hall complete with girls dressed in corsets and feathers holding the canapé trays, ornate swings hanging from the ceiling and Chuck even thought he saw a fire eater.

It was the Blair Waldorf version of Victrola and, despite his panic, Chuck felt a small stab of hurt that she had neglected to invite him to an event which she knew he would adore.

Chuck shook those thoughts from his head. He had to concentrate on finding her in the colour and the chaos of the Waldorf Penthouse.

"Chuck!" He wheeled around to be met with Serena's questioning face. "You're here..."

Chuck cut her off before he was met with disapproval for crashing the party. "I need to see Blair. Have you seen her?"

"Uh – yeah...she was over there talking to Michael and his friends." Chuck began to push past her, but she stepped in front of him. "Hey, did you not know it was her party tonight? I just mean...you're hardly dressed for the occasion" Chuck's impatience flared at the delay to his mission and he was suddenly bothered by a lingering sense of vanity due to the fact that he, Chuck Bass, was actually wearing plaid slacks and a yellow shirt to a Burlesque-style party.

"I just need to talk to her" Chuck strode quickly away from the blond's worried expression and into the crowd. His heart was still racing with thoughts of selling the family limo, letting go of the staff, moving out with his broken father to a two bed roomed apartment in Mid Town....

_God, I need Blair..._

He momentarily questioned why he was even going to her and not attempting to stop Humphrey himself and had to push back the thoughts that it was because any efforts to stop the Brooklynite would be futile and the real truth was that he needed her comfort.

Chuck tried to ignore the image which had invaded his mind; he and Blair spread out on her bed plotting like old times...he would confide in her and she would comfort him, hold him and then they would...

_Stop. Just because Dan Humphrey is destroying your life doesn't mean you lose your balls completely. _

Chuck instead tried to summon his signature swagger to restore some sense of normality. If he was to attend a party wrongly dressed and inwardly panicking he at least needed to look cocky about it. Finally he spotted her and almost stopped in his tracks when he noticed her bare back.

"Blair" He had to raise his voice above the music. She turned to face him and raised an eyebrow without surprise.

"What you are doing here, Bass?"

"I..." Chuck paused as he took in her appearance. She took his breath away despite the seriousness of the situation which was weighing on his mind. She was dressed in a floor length, glittering red corseted dress. Her shoulders were bare and her hair was stylishly twisted up in curls. Desire stirred within him as she gazed up at him through deep brown eyes.

"I really need to talk to you" If she noticed the urgency of his voice, she did not show it. Rather than looking concerned as he may have hoped, she instead frowned at she took in his outfit.

"If you're going to crash my party, Bass, at least have the taste to be dressed appropriately whilst doing it"

Frustration built within him. "Blair, I don't care about your party. Just...please...I need you to come with me"

Her eyes narrowed and her body curved away from him. Chuck sensed there was something bothering her...her expression was not the one of a Blair who was enjoying being the hostess to her perfect eighteenth party. Her face was steely and he had a certain foreboding about what words were going to leave her pouted mouth.

"Really, Chuck?" Her lip curled harshly. "I thought 'just once' was all you needed?"

Chuck stared open mouthed and a different kind of worry settled within him. The reference to their night together after the Brooklyn art show stung him. Surely she didn't think that that night hadn't been just 'one more go around' for him? Him 'clearing the pipes'? 

_Shit..._

He lowered his voice and bent his head closer to her and, unusually for him, attemped some emotional honesty. "Blair...that's...that's not what that night was to me...God, you don't really think that do you?" He took her arm but she wrenched it back with a darker glare.

"Could you just go, Chuck?" Her tone was flat and final. She wasn't going to help him. He was alone.

"Please?" She stated in pure Queen Bitch mode.

"Fine." He replied with a scowl. He began to walk slowly back to the elevator. The floor was strewn glamorously with glitter and golden confetti but every step upon it seemed to reverberate within him, forcefully reminding him of the Brooklyn scum Daniel Humphrey's power over him. All around him in Blair's plush apartment were designer dresses, the smell of expensive perfume, luxury champagne – he was in his element but these things only seemed to mock him. The colours seemed to fuse together until he felt almost dizzy. He grabbed a champagne flute and downed it in one in an attempt to ward off the nausea. As he slammed the empty glass back down, he caught a last look at Blair. She was talking with the same group of boys, an arm thrown around Serena's waist, and laughing. She looked amazing, of course, which served to make Chuck feel even worse. Blair Waldorf did not date nobodies – especially if their family had been publically shamed and stripped of wealth.

Chuck clenched his jaw and hoped that Dan Humphrey was a better man than he was.


	2. AfterParty

Chuck stares up at the tall, brick building which contains his home. It strikes him as funny that he never felt at home in anywhere other than the Van der Woodsen penthouse. And even funnier that he only recognises this fact when the life he had living there is dangling on the brink of being ripped away from him.

The moon is new and Chuck can't see the stars. What he can see above him, however, is the square, yellow light shining from the top window. Whether the light is a guide or a warning Chuck does not know, but he wants to.

His fingers were just grazing the door handle when his phone buzzed.

The screen reads Bart Bass. With a pounding heart, Chuck opens it:

"Humphrey killed the story. It's over. Talk to you tomorrow morning."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. But when they did, the relief hit him like a wonderful blow to the stomach. He grinned wider than he ever had in his life and thumped the glass door in triumph causing Vanya the doorman to look round in alarm. He barely even registered the other extraordinary fact that his father had actually expressed a wish to talk to him.

Trust Humphrey to lose his balls at the last minute. The lame moral code that had probably been drilled into him from birth by his even lamer nineties dad had won out over ambition in the end.

_Thank fuck for that..._Chuck laughed up at the sky and didn't care that he probably looked like a maniac.

_Thank you whoever the fuck you are up there that looks after billionaires and their dark secrets!_

Still smiling he texted a simple; "Thank you." to Humphrey. The pretentious Brooklynite would love an offering of 'sober gratitude' from Chuck Bass and it would serve to ensure that his expose would be shredded in the name of maintaining the moral high ground. Chuck laughed softly. He would let Dan believe that this exchange between them was over for a while. But when the time was right...even the vengeful Queen B herself would marvel at his execution of a perfect revenge plan.

Chuck wondered how Humphrey would take to complete and utter public humiliation....

Chuck spun on his heel and faced the streets. The New York City lights had never seemed so bright. He was going to hit the town and drink until he forgot the Humphrey name.

But first he had to change his outfit.

It was 12.30 and Blair was lying face-up on her bed, mind comfortably buzzing with the effects of four red champagnes. The staff were downstairs turning the wreckage of the party back into something that resembled the Waldorf Penthouse. She smiled slightly. The party had been a success; the place had been bursting with friends, acquaintances and wannabe both of the above, no one vomited, and she had neither cried in front of everybody nor slept with Chuck Bass like last year. The major blip, of course, had been the failure of her plan to permanently rid her mother of her new boyfriend, which had turned her mood extremely sour for the majority of the evening. As it turned out, the Danny DeVito lookalike was not as bad as she had originally thought...inviting Cyndi Lauper to be the finale to her party had been a nice touch to earn her approval. So by the end of the night, she was having almost as much fun as her guests. Her mother congratulated her, Serena had let her be the centre of attention and Nate had even smiled at her for the first time since the Bass-gate scandal.

Like Gossip Girl said it was the Constance Billiard party of the year. Blair was born to be Hostess and she always delivered.

But...as ever, there was something missing.

Or maybe. Just maybe. It was some_one _that was missing.

Maybe she should have invited him. Or at least told him the when it was so he could make his own mind up.

Blair suddenly frowned. That didn't make sense. Why would she have had to tell him? He was Chuck Bass of the Gossip Girl generation – of course he knew exactly when the party was!

So why did he turn up wearing _plaid trousers _and a _plain yellow shirt_ for God's sake? How out of character can you get?

Blair propped herself up on her elbows as twinges of regret started to creep over like fingers in( her stomach. Something had obviously been bothering him. And, for once, it hadn't been concern over whether or not he was going to get laid.

He must have come to her apartment in a rush, not bothering to change from his day clothes, needing help from her and she'd hurt him.

The vengeful part of her whispered 'So what?'. Why should she help the motherchucker who had hurt her time and time again, who was utterly incapable of revealing his true feelings to her and who, all in all, was a sexually depraved, alcoholic, spoilt new-money rich kid with daddy issues.

But then again, why shouldn't she help the boy she was in love with?

With a sigh (because inviting Chuck Bass over was _always _against her better judgement) Blair pulled out her phone and typed:

"Sorry about earlier, Bass. Come over?"

She vaguely considered adding 'I need you to salvage this birthday too" but, as their flirting phase was now as out as Jenny Humphrey's Emo look, she refrained (even though those treacherous red champagnes were making the prospect of a repeat of last year's birthday 'finale' extremely appealing)

Chuck was celebrating the preservation of his wealth in his traditional way. A double scotch in one hand and a few women in the other. Blair's rejection was losing its sting with every glass and he was starting to enjoy sampling the delights that floozies from Philadelphia vacationing in New York could bring him.

His favourite so far was blond, busty Laura (Lauren? Lucy?) she kept whispering in his ear and running her hand up the trousers of his perfectly tailored suit...although, on second thought, the Brunette (who the fuck cares what her name is?) was growing on him too...chocolate hair and eyes held a beautiful nostalgia for him....even though Chuck knew that no matter how many slutty girls in bars he slept with, none of them would ever match up to the girl he loved.

_Don't think about her. You said you wanted to wait until you could give her the kind of relationship she deserved - one that you wouldn't fuck up. And you're not ready to do that yet. _

He was just about to make his pick of the girls when his phone buzzed. Blair. She had just turned eighteen and she wanted to see him.

"Chu-uck" Nameless blonde #2 was reading over his shoulder and whining "You're not going to leave us are you?"

Chuck weighed it up.

Blair or sex. Sex or Blair.

He chose Blair (obviously) but with a sad twinge at how those two concepts now had to be mutually exclusive. Getting to his feet he shrugged off their faked nailed hands.

"Sorry ladies...I got an offer I can't refuse."

_He's not going to show. He thinks I want something more from him. _Blair was sitting now on her bed. She had changed out of her dress. She knew that dark, lustful look in Chuck's eyes, that had appeared when he'd seen her wearing it this evening, far too well. Wearing it in front of him when they were alone in her bedroom could only be a bad idea if she didn't want another lapse of control like after the Brooklyn Art Show.

Although (and Blair cringed at the remembrance) after what she had said to him tonight there was little to no reason why he would want to do that with her at all (and when talking about Chuck Bass that's certainly saying something)

Her cruel words were yet more reasons to add to the growing pile of reasons why he definitely wouldn't come.

"Miss Blair – Mister Chuck to see you!" A wide smile spread across Blair's face. She knew he'd come. He never let her down on her birthday. She pointedly ignored Dorota's disapproving look at having a boy over so late and swiftly checked her appearance in her Vanity. She had changed into her matching nightwear set worn with her long, silken robe to cover her bare limbs. Her curls were still intact and her makeup was subtle - but suitable for an encounter with Chuck.

And there he was. With polished suit, signature smirk and smelling of scotch he was himself again. Blair inwardly sighed with relief. Seeing Chuck troubled always hurt her.

"You wanted me, Waldorf?"

"You wish, Bass. I just thought that my Eighteenth wouldn't be complete without my favourite fellow conspirator."

"You thought right." A pause followed as Chuck sat and reclined backwards in her desk chair. Blair couldn't decide whether or not she would have preferred him joining her on the bed.

"So, am I going to have to ask why you crashed my Birthday party wearing yellow _plaid? _And what exactly was so urgent that you felt the need to try to drag me upstairs whilst I was hosting the Number One social event of the Constance year?"

Chuck crossed his legs and steepled his fingers.

"Let's just say...that I may need to seek your expert help some point in the future to destroy our dear...what is it you like to call him?...._cabbage patch"_

Blair smiled. That she could do. "I'm sure I could lend a hand. You would, of course, be indebted to me."

Chuck stood and moved slowly to stand in front of her. "I already am, Blair" He said softly. Blair barely had time to ponder the meaning behind his words before he was already turning to go.

"Happy Birthday, Blair" His eyes bored into hers and she felt her breath starting to quicken with an all too familiar, and still indescribable, feeling. She knew it was love, she just didn't understand it just yet.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier. I was just...having a bad evening...my mother's dating a gnome!" She burst out.

Chuck let out a laugh at her words. It was so characteristically Blair. He wouldn't change her for the world.

"Don't worry"

And with that, he was gone.

It wasn't until the morning that she noticed the small box he had left on her desk chair.

Opening it revealed a diamond bracelet. Solid silver. Tiffany's best. But Blair barely noticed it until after she had read the note.

"One day"


End file.
